Bye, Sam (the original)
by brittish
Summary: This is my suicidal!Sam story, "Bye, Sam", before I completely rewrote it. This is the original.
1. Chapter 1

_You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere. Stay away from each other for good._

Sam sighed, replaying his last conversation with his big brother over in his head. Things couldn't have gone worse. He'd made some unforgiveable mistakes, mistakes that quite possibly caused the end of the world. He'd let Ruby use him, he drank demon blood for fuck's sake! Sam knows he is as far from 'normal' as possible. He was not even convinced that he's human anymore, if he ever was.

Sam wanted to make things right, or die trying, so he had kept hunting for a while, until he came to the realization that he could never be forgiven. He could never undo what he had done. The apocalypse was coming, and it was all because of him.

He had tried, honestly. He did everything he could think of to stop the apocalypse. But there was nothing he could do. He was completely alone.

_But not together._

Sam understands his brother's choice, though. Dean didn't deserve to have the burden that is Sam handed to him while their mother burnt on the ceiling – Sam's fault. Dean didn't deserve to have to practically raise his little brother. Dean didn't deserve to go to hell for Sam – some days Sam wishes Dean had never made the deal. Sure, he'd be dead, but at least he would be pure-ish. He wouldn't be tainted by the evil that is slowly consuming him.

From a young age, he had been taught that if something is evil, you kill it. He knew what he was; there was no denying it. He had to do this, his last hunt. The last evil he would ever eliminate from this world.

He considered writing a note, but didn't want to burden Dean with his last words. Sam made sure to clean up beforehand, burning anything that his soul - if he had one - might cling to as a ghost.

Sitting on a bench at a park at midnight in some town he didn't know the name of, Sam removes the safety on his gun, staring at it intently.

This is it.

_Bye, Sam. _

"G'bye, Dean." Sam whispered into the night as he raised the gun to his head, not hesitating at all before pulling the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

As Sam slowly began to regain consciousness, all he felt was pain. Pain for what he had failed to finish, pain for Dean, pain for everything. Sam focused on the pain from his horrid headache and forced himself awake.

Eyes finally opening, Sam didn't really know what to expect. He couldn't be in heaven, but if he was in hell why wasn't he in much more pain? A part of him knew the answer, but he didn't want to accept it. That Lucifer had kept his promise, his promise to revive Sam if he ever tried to kill himself. Sam was trapped here, with no purpose other than utter destruction.

Opening his eyes took quite a bit more effort than should be necessary, and once his vision came to him, he shook his head and closed his eyes again.

_No. Please, no. _

But when he re-opened his eyes, it was still there. He was trapped in some wood box.

_A coffin. I'm in a coffin. _

He could see absolutely nothing, as there was no light, so he guessed it was a fair bet that he was far underground by now. Upon that realization, he smiled. That means they hadn't found Dean (or that he didn't come) because he'd have given Sam a hunter's funeral. But at least he didn't have to deal with his mess.

"I love that smile, Sammy," a voice boomed in his head, startling Sam to the point where he jerked up, smacking his forehead straight on the top of the coffin. Sam cursed loudly, though nobody could hear him. Except Lucifer.

The coffin was small; Sam barely fit in it. That's probably why Satan decided to mess with his mind from the inside this time.

"Fuck off," Sam growled, his voice cracking indignantly from days, weeks, more? of not being used.

Lucifer laughed. He finally had Sam right where he wanted him. He couldn't escape him, giving Lucifer time to find him in person. Granted, he was 10 feet underground, but that was an easy fix. "Sammy-boy, I don't think you realize the reality of your situation. See, you are no longer in control. You're stuck here, for who knows how long, until I find you. Want to just tell me and save yourself the claustrophobia?"

As Lucifer said that, Sam realized that's what the feeling in his throat was; claustrophobia. Sam had always hated being confined, but he'd always managed to keep his cool. But this wasn't like those times. "Hell no." The words came out of his mouth, thankfully, sounding stronger and surer than he felt.

With a dramatic sigh at Sam's persistence, Lucifer was gone, leaving Sam completely alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean had just returned from his little field trip to the future, and he was dead-set on finding Sam and making things right. This plan, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt when Sam didn't answer his phone.

Dean stared at his phone in confusion – Sam always answered Dean. Unless…

_No. Nope. Nada. Nein. Nyet. Non. _

Sam was fine, he was just playing hard to get. Dean hit redial and listened to the ringing through to the end, Sam's voicemail. "Hey, this is Sam. You know the drill." Then one long beep.

"Sam, it's me. Look, I'm sorry about what I said. Call me, we need to fix this." Dean said into his phone, then snapped it shut. He stood there for about 5 minutes, hoping to hear his phone play Sam's ringtone. Nothing.

Sam wasn't mad at him, was he? God, that kid could play silent treatment longer than anyone he'd ever known. If he was giving Dean the silent treatment, it could be months before Dean got to him. Plenty of time for the devil to get inside the kid's head.

Dean pulled out his phone and called Cas. After two rings, the familiar voice answered. "Hello?"

"Cas, hey, it's me."

"Dean – where are you?"

"Er," Dean had no idea where the archangel had dropped him off at. He checked his surroundings for any landmarks or signs. "It's pretty rural here, and there's a street sign up ahead – Alexandria."

"You're in Virginia. I'll be right there." Castiel replied and promptly hung up.

Dean sighed, about to put his phone away, when his screen lit up. The screen read 'new text message', to Dean's confusion. Nobody texts him, if they need to talk to him it's usually urgent and would require a phone call. He slid his phone back into his pocket, thinking it must be a wrong number or something.

"Dean." Came a voice from behind him. Dean startled, spinning around to face the source of the voice, which he now recognized as Cas's.

"Jesus, Cas, give me a heart attack why don't you?" Dean complained.

"Sorry." Was the simple reply he got from the angel. "Why did you call?"

"He didn't answer."

"Who didn't answer what?" the confused angel asked, having not been filled in on Dean's trip yet.

"Sam, he didn't answer his phone."

"You were calling Sam?" Cas was a bit surprised.

"Yes, I – You don't know?" Dean was confused as to why Cas didn't seem to know anything about his being sent to the future. "Don't you angels have some radar thing that tells you what everyone's doing?"

"We do, but the higher-ups have the power to turn it off. Why?" Castiel asked, growing concerned.

Dean sighed, and explained the events of the past day to his friend.

"I see. They were trying to convince you to accept your role as Michael's vessel. That's not what you got out of it, is it?" Cas asked, though he already knew the answer.

"I need to help Sam. We're stronger together, and to be completely honest, we need each other. I-" Dean was cut off by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He looked at Cas, who seemed to be as perplexed as he was.

"Who would be texting me? I don't even have a texting plan. I can't-" Dean stopped, eyes widening at his realization, "I can't even receive texts."

Dean quickly pulled the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open so hard he was surprised it didn't break.

'New Text Message. Read?'

Dean hit 'read'.

_D͏̩̹͙̼e̡̞̙̥̥ͅͅa͍̼ņ̬̙̤̦.̸̖̺̤͉ͅͅ ̷ I̻̩͍͘'̴̥͙͎̝̯͉ͅm s̠̱̰o̠͇̩̲̫r̝̹̺̳͘r̯̺̲̣y̮̜͙.̭͚̖ I̪͙̝͔ ̛̻͎a̞̫̖͚m̲̠͇ ̴͖̫̠̬͖s̸̝̠̰o̵̦̦ ͇̳̜̤͙̻s̠͔̗͕͖̻̗͢o̫r̪͖̼̦͉̱̯r̫̜͠y̴̰̪̼͉̲._


	4. Chapter 4

Complete silence is very deafening. At first, Sam could hear nothing. Then came that annoying ringing in his ears. That coupled with the now overwhelming claustrophobia, became too much for Sam, and he retreated into his mind.

His eyes closed, and all he did was think.

He thought of Dean. How Dean must hate his guts for reasons obvious. Sam shuddered to think what Dean would do if he found out what Sam had done. With a slight smile, he realized Dean would come barging in and save him, then kill him for being so stupid.

He thought of his suicide attempt. How trapped he is, even if he were to escape from this coffin. He's trapped in his body, in this life. He'd considered suicide a few times in the past, but always shrugged it off. The things one misses when it's taken away.

He thought of his situation. How was he going to get out of this one? Funny, with all the graves he'd dug up, he couldn't manage to get out of his own. He wished Dean were here. Dean fixes things.

But Dean wanted nothing to do with Sam anymore, and Sam knew he had no hope of escape. Dean certainly won't be looking for him any time soon. Nobody, except for Lucifer, knew he was buried alive. Lucifer, who was searching for him with each second passing.

Sam imagined the kind of torture he'd receive once Lucifer found him. Sam knew he was weak, and now with nothing left to hold on to, he knew he'd end up saying yes. He would be the selfish douchebag who let the devil in and broke the world.

He wished he could talk to Dean, one last time. Just talk. Maybe get him to not hate him, but that wasn't necessary. He wanted to hear his voice. But most of all, he wanted to apologize. He had started all this, and now he was, eventually, going to end it, with massive death. Dean would be left to pick up the pieces of the broken world. That is, until the devil got to him, too.

At that thought, Sam was hit with an overwhelming need to escape. He needed to get out, and then find a way to stay dead. He wouldn't let Lucifer hurt Dean, especially not in his body. He wished he had some demon blood so he could maybe work his way out.

As soon as the thought registered, Sam loathed himself for even thinking it. But what's worse is that a part of him actually considered that plan.

Even if he could, he would not drink demon blood. Ever. That's what got him in to this whole mess. If he escaped, Dean would find out what he did, eventually, and he didn't want to disappoint his brother any more than he already had.

Sam groaned, feeling helpless for the first time in a very long time.

He had no clue where the idea came from, but he suddenly knew what he had to do. He was still psychic, so who says he can't tap in to that and send Dean a message? He was going to apologize to Dean, one last time. It's not enough, but what could Sam ever do to make up for what he did? He didn't expect Dean to drop everything and come swooping in to save him, and he didn't want Dean to have to know what happened.

Sam focused on Dean. He spent hours trying to locate him, when he finally found him, in Virginia of all places.

Now that he had him, Sam was at a loss for words. He didn't have enough power to send a lengthy message, he didn't even know how/if Dean would get it. He had to try. He knew he'd never know if his message got through, but at least he tried. Summoning all the power he could, Sam projected his message to Dean as long as he possibly could. Finally, his power gave out and, drained, he lost consciousness.

_Dean. I'm sorry. I am so sorry. _


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N_

_Guyssss I'm so sorry I've been MIA. I really have no excuse except for the fact that my anxiety/depression sucks and its making me doubt myself and my writing. It started where I kept deleting sentences to paragraphs, but now I can't even write at all for fear of writing something dumb. I especially can't post anything online because I'm afraid I'll look back and think 'wow that was fracking stupid what is wrong with me?!' and then die inside more._

_TBH I feel like this story sucks and there's nothing I can do with it (this one or my other Bye, Sam version) because I literally screwed up so much and idk. Should i even continue?_

_Also I lack inspiration. BUT I'm working on it. This chap, I found hidden on my laptop XD _

_Please review and HONESTLY tell me what you think and how I can improve_

_SPN SPN SPN SPN _

Dean stared at his phone in shock. He felt Castiel reading the text over his shoulder, but the closeness didn't register.

Two things Dean noticed right off: there was no reply number, and the text was glitched. What kind of phone does that?

"Cas?" Dean asked, hoping, doubting, that Cas could explain this. He hoped to hell and back that it wasn't what he thought it was.

Castiel didn't respond, just grabbed the phone from Dean's hands and took a screenshot, only then returning the phone to its owner. Dean was about to ask what the hell that was for, until the screen went black. Normal, it just timed out. He hit the power button and unlocked it, and felt his heart drop when the message had disappeared. He checked his messages and found nothing.

"Cas, how'd you know that would happen?" Dean asked, turning around to face his friend.

"Mental projection does not tend to last very long. The message you received must have taken a large amount of psychic energy." Castiel replied.

"Oh God. It's Sam, isn't it?" Dean groaned, "The sonuvabitch is back on the demon blood, isn't he? Fuck. I'm done. Just done. He can do whatever the hell he wants, I give up."

Cas eyed Dean warily, and Dean knows. "I just don't understand. Why did he send a text using his powers, and why the hell did he think that would change anything? This doesn't make sense."

"That is because you made an assumption based on events of the past. Think about it. Why would Sam send you a psychic message, if he could just text you himself?" Cas questioned.

"Fuck, he said 'yes', didn't he? God, I didn't think it would be this early, I should have stopped him. I should have been there for him. Oh my god." Dean slid down to sit on the park bench, looking up at the dark sky, wishing he'd been –

Castiel sighed, as if Dean was missing his point, thus breaking Dean's train of thought (read: self-hate). "Dean, you do not understand. Sam does not have access to a phone."

"Stop being all cryptic and tell me what the hell is going on!" Dean shouts angrily, wincing at the edge in his voice and the reaction it gets from the angel. "Sorry, Cas. I'm just, I don't think I can –"

"It is fine, Dean. I, ah, heard some rumors floating around up there, about your brother. Heaven knows. About Sam being the Vessel. Apparently, one of my brothers and sisters has taken matters in to their own hands. Sam was… fatally injured, and proclaimed dead as a 'John Doe'. It's actually a smart plan, keep Lucifer's Vessel deep underground, marked only by an anonymous grave. We must get to him, and fast, because Lucifer has forever to find him, and I don't doubt he'd let something as small as an unmarked grave stop him from getting your brother."

Dean's heart snapped at the words 'fatally injured'. He couldn't believe it. Sam – Sammy – was dead. He let his head drop into his hands and felt himself breaking, piece by piece. "Oh God, this is all my fault. Sammy needed me, more than ever, and I rejected him and now he's dead and oh my god I don't think I – "

Dean's horrified babbling was interrupted again by Castiel, who held up a hand. "He is not dead."

Dean's head snapped up at that, "But, you said – "

"He can't die, Dean." Was the angel's response.

He hadn't known it was possible to feel such relief while his heart broke in two.

"HE TOLD ME HE BUILT A TIME MACHINE LIKE ONE IN A FILM I'VE SEEN

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH

HE SAID I TOOK A TRIP TO THE YEAR 3000

NOT MUCH HAS CHANGED BUT THEY LIVED UNDERWATER

AND YOUR GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER IS DOING FINE

HE TOOK ME TO THE FUTURE IN THE FLUX THING AND I SAW EVERYTHING

BOY BANDS AND ANOTHER ONE AND ANOTHER ONE AND ANOTHER ONE." Sam sang (screamed) at the top of his lungs, in a futile attempt to get Lucifer to shut up. He'd been going at this for what seemed like hours, mentally going through every song he had memorized (most of which are Dean's music, and he didn't want to think about him right now), so that's how he ended up singing a song made famous by the Jonas Brothers.

Sam can't help but chuckle at the thought of Dean finding him like this; he'd either laugh his ass off or think Sam'd gone off the deep end. Or both. Less than a second after the thought passed through his mind, Sam cursed. He'd been trying not to think about him.

Fucking Jonas Brothers… If I ever get out of here..- no no no no no no don't even go there dumbass. Not getting out of here. Don't wanna. Can't. Won't.

"I SAY YOU KILL YOUR HEROES AND FLY FLY BABY DON'T DIE  
NO NEED TO WORRY CAUSE EVERYBODY WILL DIE except you, Sam." Lucifer really was a horrible singer. He'd been singing his own… parodies of songs (at Sam's expense), always just a notch louder than Sam.

Sam responded to the Devil by promptly banging his head against the top of the coffin. Multiple times.

"C'mon Sammy, you know you can't get rid of me that easily." Lucifer says with a laugh in the now silent coffin. Sam'd given up on their song-war thing. Lucifer took this as a victory.

Sam didn't respond to him. Lucifer should have learned by now; Sam doesn't reply to him when he calls him Sammy. Sam may be Lucifer's, but Sammy will always be Dean's. Always.

"For the love of-" Lucifer's frustration at Sam's continued stubbornness was starting to show. That brought a smile to Sam's lips, even if only for a second.


End file.
